Black Rose
by Trying To Try My Best
Summary: Some things in life are brought to a dull drawl, dragged through the thick mud after the rain. They're still important, of course. Now they just need to be fixed. (Small unfinished tester I made and decided to share. Up for adoption, contact me for permission and the like and I will gladly help you out. Thanks.)


_"My.. black.. rose~"_

Outside the stained and dusted car window, shadows danced to the buzzing and breathless song in his ears with perfect harmony. Matching the sad song with ease while the tree branches blurred into solid lines of dark colors, mixing and twisting like playful, rebellious, children waiting for the perfect curious victim to set their sights onto their ever-changing acts to gift them with the pains of a headache, the fast movements and flashes of playful colors assaulting the eyes to the point of confusion and pain.

 _"Seen the way it grows.. (Seen the way you grow~)"_

Just down the road, lights with broken and weak glares started to make themselves known. The shadows started to shrink back in fear of the weak lights, the only brave ones being in the Vargas' car, bouncing and jumping, playing on an invisible teeter totter that humans were blind to, for this was the game of the light and the dark. A playful round that they were forbidden to watch.

 _"Looking for the light~ (Looking for the light~..)"_

It was like coming out of a cave for the first time in years. Signs and the bright shine of fluorescent and false lighting made up the whole city. Some cars lazily zoomed by and others sped down the concrete roads like the only place that they would hate to be, was exactly where they were, rolling down the roads and causing brief panic when they seemed to get too close to other cruisers.

Ads were everywhere; McDonald's, Inside-Out Burger, GameStop, Denny's, Wal Mart, it was everywhere. The teen that sat in the back felt his onyx eyes water with the sheer fake-ness that attacked his tired senses without the loving protection of the darkness to shield him. Tan lids slipped closed, cuddling the dry and hurt hues while dulling the aching throb that appeared in the side of his head. Shoulder's slumped, legs spread ungentlemanly wide, he crossed his arms and rested his sore head against the relieving coldness that the glass window provided, ignoring the soft thumps and vibrations that occurred while the car drove around the twist and turns down the infamous, Historic, Route 66 and lesser known paths to reach where they needed to be.

 _"My.. last.. hope~, be happy on your way.. (Help me in your way~)"_

"Flavio..?" A voice hidden by the teasing shadows whispered tentatively. High in pitch but no doubt male. Soft rumbling, rough and jaded like it was meant for the loudness of the live light and the hustle and bustle of an overpopulated, over irritated, and short tempered life of the city.

The voice pressed on. "Flavi."

The boy remained unresponsive.

 _"Let me stay with you~,"_

The shadow stretched. A dark tanned hand broke free from the dark's playful grasp and brushed the dimmed fabric of the other's washed and bleached black shirt with a curious hesitant touch. He twitched. "Tch." The voice scoffed, annoyed with the one that they shared the back seat with for the break of the outside world he took without the permission, or care, for the brother he left behind to sit and suffer to the lights of the outside and silence of the inside, alone.

 _"Don't you wilt away~ (Don't you go bad, don't you go bad..)"_

And so the teen, Flavio Vargas, slept on, the lullaby of a sad song and the feeling of his own heart beating in his chest dragging him into the soft embrace of the sandman for the next two hours before the illusion of peace will be shattered and his mind drug from the blissful abyss by his own traitorous body and the nudge of an even more annoyed then before brother.

* * *

 _Okay so this is just something that I made a long while ago that I was proud of. My friend brought it to my attention again so I thought about and my account here and decided that even though it's not finished and there's a low possibility that it might ever be, I should share it anyway. Maybe even talk of adoption with another great writer that might stumble upon this and believes that they can take it into good hands and treat it well._

 _But, anyway, I thought I should share it online somewhere._

 _Thanks for reading, cuties._


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